


Fragile Like a Bomb

by StoriBambino



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: AU Where Erik Lived, Erik is healing, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, In it for the money, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, StoriesbyStori
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-16 01:53:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14154123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoriBambino/pseuds/StoriBambino
Summary: T'Challa didn't kill Erik but instead made a deal. If he would work on himself then he could stay in Wakanda and they could work for a better future but first, he needed healing.Enter Madame. A professional Dom that specializes in hard cases.





	1. New Client Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at fic so if it bad please let me know!! Critique is welcome always. This has not been beta'd or edited. 
> 
> This story centers POC. If this is not your thing move along please.

She was never nervous before meeting a new client but everything about tonight was new. Just ten hours ago she was studying for a psychology final and wondering if then impending student debt was worth the trouble of late nights and early mornings. Now she was on a Wakandan aircraft on her way to meet God knows who first a first session, stomach turning. When was the last time she had been this nervous? That first kink party? The first time she put on leather and picked up a crop?

“We’ll be landing in 10 minutes.” The woman’s voice jolts her from her thoughts. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes. I’ll be ready once we land.” No time for nerves now, there’s work to be done. Money to be made. In ten short minutes, the aircraft will land and it will be just another new client. Pull it together Madame.  
\------

“I hope the flight was comfortable.” 

“Yeah, it was a lot shorter than I thought it would be.” 

“Wakandan technology.” The woman, Okoye, winked as she walked ahead. “I hope you don’t mind us bringing you here on such short notice, Madame.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice.” Glancing around the ornate hall. “Not that it’s a problem.” She added not wanting to sound ungrateful. 

“We acquired everything on your list.” 

“Thank you. I hope it wasn’t too much of a hassle to find everything. I was surprised I wouldn’t be able to bring my own materials.”

“It is safer this way.” Okoye stopped and turned to the small woman behind her. She hadn’t had a moment to examine this woman the king insisted on bringing to the palace. Taking a step closer she stared into her eyes. They were brown and unusually smooth like the back of a chocolate bar but they aged the woman beyond her years. Her face was young and soft. She took a few moments to search for more, some reason that this was the way to fix the growing royal problem. It was all too simple she was too simple and dare she say, fragile. (Hold still Madame). She repeated the words as a mantra not wanting to show the fierce woman in front of her that she was uncomfortable. Okoye was truly beautiful. Perfect skin, full lips, confidence, and clearly dangerous. Giving her a sheepish smile she returned the gaze hoping she wasn’t giving too much away. After a few moments, Okoye seemed satisfied with what she saw. 

“I trust you read the file that was provided to you?” 

“Yes.”

“Any questions?”

“Not about anything in the file. Just one in general. How did you find me?”

“You came highly recommended by Agent Ross.” Okoye says bluntly casting a sidelong glance.  
“I see.” She quickly makes a mental note to thank that little asshole for the biggest payday ever.

“Is there anything you need before I leave you?” They had stopped in front of ornate double doors, made of very dark wood. This was it. On the other side of this massive doorway was her most important client ever. 

“No. Has he been prepared?”

“Exactly as you requested.” At that, she turned and began to leave. The warrior did not look back but said a silent prayer to Bast that the mysteriously simple woman she left standing there would be able to handle Wakanda’s biggest threat.  
\---

Pushing through the doors she realized two things. One, nothing in Wakanda was what it seemed. Two she was in way over her head. The chambers, read mini apartment, were even more lavish than the doors. Stepping into the parlor there was a large living room area with two couches, a coffee table, end tables and some additional seating. The coffee table seemed to be made of the same wood as the doors and there was a chest sitting in its center. The chest contained her outfit for the night and a few of the materials she wouldn’t need to utilize immediately. She let out a shaky breath then removed the clothing and closed the chest. There was no turning back and curiosity was beginning to win the battle against nerves. There was another large door to the left, the master bedroom. Suddenly her heartbeat seemed so loud she was sure the client could hear it through the door. Taking another breath she shed her sweats and t-shirt tossing them to the couch. 

Every new client meeting began the same, naked save for her favorite pair of heels. The shoes were her most prized possession and listening to the familiar click across the marble floor calmed the butterflies threating to burst from her stomach. They were not anything special just simple black platform stilettoes. Her first splurge purchase when she started domming full time. Feeling a bit more grounded she put on the leather brassiere and shorts. They were clearly custom made and trimmed in real gold by the looks of it. She had sent her measurements when she got the call but none of the women she’d met so far were any larger than a B cup so it was natural to be worried about fit. The fit was perfect and framed her DD’s well. Same could be said of the shorts gold at the hips accentuated her curves. There was a time when she wouldn’t have been ok with so little clothing but those days were long behind her. No, she’d never be a size six but at 12 she knew she was gorgeous. She stopped to look at herself in the full-length mirror near the bedroom entrance, took another breath and entered the room.

Whoever set up the room had followed her specifications perfectly. The lights around the room were dim and incenses were lit around the room. The windows went all the way to the ceiling bathing the room in light from the moon. Walking further into the room she found her materials laid out on a table. It was wide made of dark wood, like a formal dining table. Okoye, or whoever provided the new equipment, spared no expense. New crops, several bundles of rope, various cuffs, cock rings, lube and other gadgets were laid out on a purple cloth. She was choosing her first crop when the client made an impatient grunt. 

For the first time, she looked at the man kneeling at the foot of the California king. Although his back was to her she could tell by the noise he knew she was there and he was gagged. The gag was for show and would be removed soon but first impressions were everything. Satisfied with a crop selection, the biggest made from hard leather as he was a big one, she stepped behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. She began to run her hand along the muscle there that was covered in small scars. Wanting to test the waters she drug her nails down the center of his back scraping some of the scars. If the sensation was affecting him she couldn’t tell. He hadn’t flinched at the contact. Without removing her hand from his skin she slid around to face the man and sat down on the bed. After placing the crop across her lap she tilted her head back slightly to take in the form situated between her legs. He was beautiful, though from the glare in his eyes she would not tell him that. His eyes were deep brown and hard set. There was a twitch of surprise when she seated herself he was probably not expecting his visitor to be baby-faced standing only five-foot-6 without heels. His skin was flawless and she had to resist the urge to stroke his cheek. Instead, she spent a few more moments examining his body language. 

His massive arms were tied behind his back causing his chest to stick out, inviting touch. Reaching out she laid a hand on his right pectoral muscle. His eyes followed the movement but there was no other reaction. Feeling playful she pinched his nipple earning another glare and harsh exhale but nothing more. It was clear he was not used to being on his knees as he began to shift his weight. (Good, he’s impatient). She took both hands and fisted his short locs pulling his head back slightly. Holding him there for a few seconds before unclasping the ball gag that had been stretching those full lips. 

“Do you know why I’m here?” she asked settling back on the bed.

“I don’t know but if you think you’re running something sweetie I—“ The crop came down swiftly across his right nipple taking the rest of the sentence with it. 

“You will not speak to me like that. My name is not sweetie. You will call me Madame” He made a move to say something else but thought better of it. All traces of softness had left her face; lips pushed into a tight line and eyes narrowed looking down at him. The crop raised in her left hand ready to come down again. “I will ask a second time. Do you know why I am here?”

“I don’t know…” Smack. She laid another stripe across the same nipple hard enough to leave a welt if it was not already covered in scar tissue. He surged forward. Quickly she picked up her foot and placed it to his crotch applying enough pressure to stop his movement. Looking from her foot to the crop to her face he searched for some sign of his mistake. Finding nothing she gave him a hint.

“I don’t know who?”

“I don’t know Madame.”

“Good boy.” She cooed removing her foot and settling back onto the bed. 

“I ain’t no one’s good boy.” He retorted, clenching his jaw anticipating another hit. It did not come. Instead, she fisted his hair again and stood, pulling his head back to look up at her face. Although he was on his knees he was still able to look at her without much effort. 

“You are whatever I want you to be and will answer to whatever name I give you.” After finishing the statement she released his hair and waited for any additional resistance. The man barred his teeth flashing gold fangs but did not offer any additional disagreement. “There are rules to what we do here and you will follow them. Do you understand?” He gave a curt nod. Pushing a breath between her teeth she continued.

“Rule 1: When I ask you a question you give me a verbal answer. Yes, Madame. No Madame and so on. Rule 2: You will not lie to me. I will know if you’re lying to me and you will be punished. Rule 3: Use your safe words.” At this, he raised an eyebrow and shot her a puzzled look. “Basic stoplight my dear. Green good to go. Yellow slow down. Red to stop.”

“So you’re giving me a choice?”

“I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have a choice. I offer specific services and someone seems to think you would benefit from them. So I came here to give you my full attention my dear.” He looked down. Maybe considering putting a stop to all this now and attacking the small woman before him. When the silence began to stretch into awkward territory he spoke again. 

“Erik. My name is Erik.”

“Well my good little Erik, color please.”

“Green Madame.”


	2. Already Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I ain’t tell you shit. You can’t break me.” 
> 
> “Oh darling, you’re already broken. I’m going to very carefully take you apart and then I’ll put you back together. Then I’m going to do it again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work centers POC. If that's not your thing move along.

“Do you know why I do this Erik?” She mused.

“The money and power dynamic.” He responded flatly.

“Is that what you think of me, Erik? Power hungry? I’m here to make you my bitch?” She leaned forward to look him in the eye.  “You tell me the most interesting things about yourself.”

“I ain’t tell you shit. You can’t break me.” Flashing a defiant smirk.

Returning the gesture, “Oh darling, you’re already broken. I’m going to very carefully take you apart and then I’ll put you back together. Then I’m going to do it again.” The coolness of her response agitates him.

He pushes his mouth into a tight line while his eye flick from her face to the crop she’s still holding. Who does this little woman think she is? Erik had agreed to T’Challa’s terms after the battle in the mines but this was surely not what he was expecting. He was royalty, of the same blood as the so-called King and Black Panther he was not to be subjected to the taunts of some girl. He deserved respect. He deserved more. He …

“Ah, ah, ah. Come back to me.” The tone was firm and final. “You see that is why I’m here. You live in that big head of yours too much. Living, analyzing, but never processing but we can fix that.” She rose from the bed taking the crop and patting him on the head as she went back to the table. From his position and the rope, he could only glance over his shoulder but he couldn’t get a proper view of what she was doing. Ever the tactician, he had other ways of gathering intel.

“What your crop didn’t get the point across? Looking for something with a little more bite?” She only hummed in response. “I know they gave you a file on me. Smart girl like you would’ve read it and paid close attention. I’ve been in war. I’ve killed men, women, even children. I’m not one to be fucked with. Whatever torture kinky shit you got over there ain’t going to get under my skin baby girl.”

“I’m going to let that one slide since this is your first session and all.” She’s coming back to the bed with two small items in her hands. When she is comfortably seated once again with Erik positioned between her legs she lays her utensils on her lap. Erik doesn’t take his eyes away from hers, still fighting for dominance. Undaunted by his challenge she continues, “I should punish you for calling me out my name but you’ll adjust to the rules soon. To answer your rhetorical question, yes. Yes, I read your file. Yes, I’ve seen what you’ve done, accomplished. Quite honestly it bored me.”

Erik raised an eyebrow and anger flashed across his features briefly before he regained his composure.

“The problem with those files and dossiers is that they leave out the good bits.” She tossed him a playful small before making her face a mask of dominance and neutrality. “Are you familiar with transient hypofrontality? No? Well, it’s a fancy term for subspace. Subspace means you letting go, getting out of your head and giving me your trust and control.” Holding up a finger to halt whatever rebuttal he planned.

“I am not a sadist. I do not enjoy inflicting pain on people. What I do is find what people need to achieve a safe subspace. I could flog you, beat you, put clamps on your perky chocolate nipples, abuse your sensitive balls for hours, even put your dick in a cage making erection impossible. However, none of that would get us where we need to go.” Placing a hand on either side of his face she continued. “I don’t like pain but you do. It’s obvious by the way you’ve chosen to live your life, to wage war, to mark this beautiful body.” His lips quiver oh so slightly at the compliment. “No, in order for me to get you where I need you to go I’m going to have to show your beauty and pleasure.”

Erik closes his eyes against the words. She doesn’t know him. She can’t possibly tell him what he needs, he isn’t weak.

“Erik look at me or I’ll have to stop.” He opens his eyes still glaring, “Color darling. Don’t be afraid.” Pride winning the war of emotion in his chest he wasn’t about to be punked by this BDSM Bratz Doll.

“Green.” Having permission she gave him a slight nod and drew her attention to his ignored member laying heavily between his legs. She grabbed the utensils from her lap and moved behind Erik where his hands were tied. His hands were clasped together with his fingers interlaced. Working her hand between she asked if they were numb or if the ropes were too tight. He told her no and she came back to face him this time kneeling in front of him.

He went up on his knee to tower over her short frame. Looking down his eyes lingered on her full lips and plump breast. She allowed him to have his fill before pulling his attention to her hands.

“I’m going to touch you now.” Grabbing his length in her hand she gave one short tug, just to ground him in the present. With her other hand, she produced one of the new toys from the table, a small cock ring. With the thumb of the hand that was on him, she rubbed small circles around the head picking up the small clear beads of precome already collecting there. Some of the tension drained from his shoulders but not for long as positioned the cock ring snugly around his growing erection and balls.

He let out a sharp breath and cut his eyes at her, offended at his new imprisonment.

“This is what I like to call insurance.” She cooed still stroking him, “It will keep you at attention, no parade rest for as long as I need. Have you had a cock ring before?”

Glaring without an answer she gave him a firm pull and whispered, “Remember the rules.”

“No, Madame.” Came out through gritted teeth.

“Good boy. My little ring will keep you hard but unable to come until I tell you that you can. You’ll get permission if, and only if you’re a sweet good boy.”

“Listen I told yo ass I ain’t nobody’s good boy – OH SHIT.” Anticipating his outburst she had turned on her other new toy, a vibrating bullet and was currently holding it to his sensitive tip. He gave an involuntary thrust and tried to stay upright. No more words escaped his lips just a broken off moan.

“Now who’s my good boy?”

As much as he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of an answer he knew he would at least have to pretend to follow her rules if he wanted the situation to go as he planned. So after a steadying inhale, he responded, “Me.”

The hand that wasn’t currently fucking with him came to pinch his left nipple. “Yes, yes you are.” The pain was immediately replaced when she swirled her tongue around the sensitive nib only to have it taken away when she nipped at the skin. She went on like this for a minute, hell it could’ve been an hour. Erik didn’t have much of a concept of time at this point. Far too busy trying to let pleasure cloud his mind. He had to stay alert look for a way in, something to get under her skin. Is she getting off on this? Fuck, can’t tell. Maybe there’s a pattern to what she’s doing with her mouth. Fuuuccckkk maybe not. What’s her goal?

“We can stay here until sunrise if you’re going to keep doing that.”

He had to blink to focus and when he did she was eye level, inspecting him. His breathing was ragged, he’s slumped back to rest on his heels (when did that happen), and he was acutely aware that the bullet had started making a lazy path up and down his shaft. He was aching for release.

“We almost made some progress there but tsk tsk … Just can’t stop thinking can you?” Her face was still neutral but there was a playful tone in her voice. “Can’t have that. I guess I’ll have to resort to extreme measures.”

Without another word she turned off the bullet and laid it next to them. He had to suppress a whimper but took full advantage to regain some control of himself. Daring to assess what she had done he looked down to his still full erection. He let out a curse under his breath he could feel the blood rushing through his length kept hard by the fucking plastic bitch ass ring. If maybe he could adjust his shoulders he could move closer to the bed and get some friction.

“Friction won’t help darling.” She was back standing next to him. While he was distracted with his own misery he didn’t notice that she moved the full-body mirror to face the bed. Stronger than she looks. It had a wide base and stand at the back so it stood alone. “Can you move darling?”

“Yeah whatever man.” Erik carefully shuffled so that he was facing the mirror head-on. He caught a glimpse but immediately dropped his head. This was humiliating he didn’t need to see all that.

“Don’t be like that.” She positioned herself behind him and retrieved the bullet, switching it back on. “I want you to see yourself. Please don’t make me force you to look.” This bi--, woman had the audacity to sound sweet. Innocent even. Fuck no, fuck that, fuck her he thought and told her as much.

“Erik! Such a bad mouth.” Placing the bullet back to his everlasting erection she grabbed his chin with the other hand and turn his face to hers. His eyes were twisted shut and mouth pulled into a grimace. “Bad, pretty mouth indeed.” His eyes flew open a string of eloquently put together curses aimed directly at her but none made it. There was a look of complete openness on her face. No trace of maliciousness or expectation, just genuine concern. It was uncomfortable to look at her. It burned, made the back of his eyes burn. No one had ever looked at him like that. No one cared about him, how he felt.

His chest began to heave and feel tight. Gotta get up, gotta move it’s too much. How dare she looks at him like that? He’s not weak. Bucking back against her she drops the bullet and falls on her backside.

“Hey, hey, hey. Erik, Erik, please. I’ve got you. I **got** you.” She’s hugging him tight now. Arms around his neck, pulling him in against her chest and rubbing circles into his temples. “Shhh now. You dropped on me. You can’t do that. When it’s too much you have to use your words. Come back.” Cooing like comforting a hurt child.

The panic starts to fade as he listens to the steady beat of her heart. He shakes his head in an attempt to clear his mind and try to “come back”.

“You with me?”

“I’m good. It was just the ropes.” He lies, badly at that.

“I can untie you and cuff you in front instead. That ok?”

“Yeah, cool whatever.” She gives him a knowing look them heads over to the table picking up a padded pair of cuffs. Making quick work of the knots she allows him to stretch before taking his wrists in her hands. Despite their size difference, she holds them firmly not shying away from his weary gaze.

“Are you sure you’re ok? You’ve done more than enough for a first session. I don’t wanna push you.”

“I ain’t no punk.”

“You know that’s not what I said. We are still getting to know each other … It’s ok to say you’re uneasy.”

“Man listen, I ain’t no punk and I ain’t scared of you so put the fucking cuffs on. Madame. Green.”

Upon hearing the safe word her demeanor shifts from caregiver to boss bitch seamlessly. She puts on the cuffs just this side of comfortable and stands to admire the adjustment. Her gaze lingers between his legs. Although the cock ring was still firmly in place he had lost his hard-on.

“Such a shame Erik. Now we have to start all over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback makes me happy. Come find me on Tumblr (storibambino) We can discuss kink therapy and any other delicious topics.

**Author's Note:**

> Storibambino on Tumblr if you wanna come hang out.
> 
> Comments make me happy!!


End file.
